


The Forgotten World

by SushiSundae



Category: Star Wars: Young Jedi Knights Series - Kevin J. Anderson & Rebecca Moesta
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1389244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiSundae/pseuds/SushiSundae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new planet. A new enemy. And new feelings about old friends. </p>
<p>Set shortly after the conclusion of "Crisis at Crystal Reef."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This novella is complete, and is in process of being typed up from its original handwritten format in order to be shared with the world after many years living cold and alone and unread under a bed. Chapters will be posted gradually, as they're converted, but please be patient with the process. I hope this is a pleasant experience for anybody else who is, or was, a huge fan of these books. Thanks for stopping by and reading my little take on "what happened next". :)

Zekk sat bolt upright in bed, gulping his breaths and pouring sweat. His eyes quickly surveyed his surroundings, and his mind slowly processed them as familiar. Undecorated metal walls. A few shelves cluttered with keepsakes and junk in equal proportions. His quarters in the Lightning Rod.

Releasing his most recent gulp of air in a heavy sigh, he swung his feet over the side of his cot, stood up, and stumbled to the refresher unit. One look at the reflection that met him revealed his trouble sleeping over the last few nights. Dark purple circles stained the skin below his eyes, and his black hair was tangled and matted to his head. He felt he could even see the aching in his bones, a side effect of his body’s sudden decision that even at nearly twenty years old he wasn’t quite done growing, which was hardly helping his sleep. (And was otherwise a damn appropriate metaphor for his life, Zekk thought.)

Zekk splashed his haggard face with water to replace the droplets of sweat beading his forehead with the clean, cool liquid. He quickly decided against trying to go back to sleep. There was nothing there he wanted to revisit right now. He walked slowly to the cockpit of his battered old ship and eased his stiff body into the copilot’s seat – the one Jaina Solo had often occupied. 

But not this time. This time, he was going it alone, as the saying went. Funny, he thought. He’d sworn to himself not that long ago that he was done with the solo game. He frowned at the thought that he’d made an unintended pun. No, it wasn’t to get away from Jaina that he’d left. He stretched restlessly and rubbed his cheeks with his palms, shaking his head.

This trip was about closing a chapter of his past. He had to, if he was going to get a handle on his future. It was what one did. Reconciliation. Zekk looked out the front viewport at the hanging sphere of Ennth. He’d been born here, perhaps should have died here. His parents had, after all. Coming back here two years ago didn’t raise his spirits, but this visit had, just as Master Skywalker had suggested it might. He’d returned to find some reminder of his childhood, of the happier time before the destruction of his home and family. And he had found a family with an eight-year-old son. He helped them rebuild the boy’s play area, something they’d never had the time or resources for after they returned from the refugee stations to their earthquake-ravaged planet. Helping rebuild had proven to be far more therapeutic than evacuating people.

But just as he felt some part of his rocky past was smoothing out, settling into something he could accept, the nightmares had begun. Visions so chilling he could hear his heart in his ears through his sleep. At times the dreams were vague on the surface, just fire and tall jungle trees, but more often than not he found himself standing amidst seas of white-armored stormtroopers, flocks of menacing TIE fighters and bombers in sterile steel hangar bays. All of them awaiting his command to strike on Luke Skywalker’s Jedi academy. And somewhere below him and around him, the muffled, panicked words and screams of Jaina, which stayed with him long after the other images faded to his waking memory.

“Over,” Zekk choked out, speaking to no one in particular. And not going to happen again. Instinctively, he wanted to push away the memories of his time dabbling in the dark side – no, not just dabbling. He’d been a dark Jedi. Killed for the dark side. Swallowing bile, he let the images his mind conjured flow freely over him, not bothering to distinguish those of his actual memory from those of his dreams; they were equally real to his mind now. As much as it chilled his bones to let him mind drift back to that time, to who he’d been, to what he’d done, he knew that to forget would be to risk falling back to it one day. And who was he, who’d fallen so easily, to deserve to forget? To act like he was better than all that?

Zekk closed his eyes, and Ennth vanished, leaving him with nothing but the visions of the red lightsaber in his blood-spattered hands and the presence of the Force around him. Stealthily, the Force began to permeate more of Zekk’s consciousness. The sickening memories dimmed, being replaced by an acute awareness of his own presence in the cold, electric flow of the Force; like he’d been standing in a dry riverbed and was suddenly carried away by a flash flood from behind. 

In the wave he felt a sudden and precise clarity.

This was not the place he was supposed to be.

The Force was calling its Jedi knight somewhere else, and when the answer floated easily up to the top of his mind, he did not question its correctness. Everyone he cared about was still on Yavin 4, and here he was, floating in space alone with his nightmares. What a fool.

Zekk gazed one last time at Ennth while his fingers deftly began to enter a set of coordinates into the navicomputer. Amends were made here; debts paid. Time to go. He punched one last button and the Lightning Rod lurched into hyperspace.

 

Zekk loved hyperspace travel, and he decided he would do it a lot more often, should he come to a point in his life that he had more places to go, that is. The stars blended together in a swirling slurry of dim lights, mesmerizing him and allowing him to sink into a near trance-like state. His mind pulled in on itself when his visual sense was occupied with such rhythmic tedium, and he could feel his thoughts more than he could describe what he was precisely thinking about. It was peaceful, thinking without concrete words or images. It was almost too bad the trip was nearing its end.

Pulling himself away from his soul’s opiate hanging outside the viewport, Zekk strode to the refresher once more. He sized himself up in the reflector, noting the improvement in the brightness of his eyes and skin, the lessoning tenseness in his jaw and neck muscles. A beep from the cockpit controls warned him that the hyperspace jump would be over soon, so he sat back down in the pilot’s seat. The empty chair next to him caught his attention more than he might like to admit, even to himself, leaving him eager to see the face of the girl who usually occupied that seat. Woman, not a girl anymore, a twinging voice in the back of his head noted, surprising him. He ignored the hot flush in his cheeks and the feeling of the organs of his chest trying to push their way into his throat, and focused on bringing the Lightning Rod into the jungle moon’s atmosphere without turning it and himself into Rhodian barbeque.

He pulled his ship around the planet’s orbit to aim his entry directly toward the old Massassi temple that housed the Jedi academy, grateful they had not changed the security codes since his departure. (It was also a sign that he was arriving at a time of peace for the academy, which he was even more grateful for.) The Lightning Rod touched down as gracefully as a ship that old can on the temple’s landing pad, and Zekk looked out of the familiar treescape of Yavin 4. He smiled without realizing he was doing so.


	2. Chapter 2

WARLORD MALEK RESOTO was a tall, muscular man with nearly shoulder-length dark hair that was snatched back in a neat, short ponytail at the base of his skull. As he stood on the bridge of his flagship Star Destroyer, his stone-hard facial features were set in a calm expression that he believed spoke silently of power . . . despite what seemingly little he had. His small fleet – which consisted of a few sloppily-built Star Destroyers and a couple hundred TIEs – meandered through space searching for . . . . Well, he wasn’t quite sure yet.

There was not much left in the galaxy for the few _sane_ individuals who still supported the efficient organization of government under the Empire. And that total was diminishing each day.

Resoto had watched others try to resurrect the grim glory of the Empire. And fail. Miserably. His father had been a weapons operator under the first great rise of Emperor Palpatine, and his mother would sit for hours listening to her husband tell of wins and losses to the great Imperial military in the ongoing war against the rebellion. Resoto had listened as well, drinking in the stories and filing them all into his mind’s vault.

When his father was stationed on the first Death Star, operating the station’s massive planet-destroying superlaser, Resoto and his parents were ecstatic. Then the Death Star was destroyed, with his beloved father inside, and Resoto’s childhood ended abruptly. Only five years old at the time, it took a long time for him to come to terms with what had happened to take his father away from him. At fourteen, he knew he had to be a part of rebuilding the Empire, serving in the same military his father had been so proud of.

Resoto had tried to follow Admiral Daala in her plan to bring back Imperial glory, but the sixteen-year-old had failed his entrance tests, been told he was too young, too irresponsible to be a Stormtrooper. The rejection had thrown him into a deep depression that kept him in cantinas and out of Imperial activities for several years.

By buying information from brokers, Resoto watched the Empire from a distance instead. He noticed the folly, the lack of attention to details, of multiple would-be emperors, and grand admirals, and warlords. Fools all.

Then one day he was bartering with his usual information broker, and the man grinned, showing Resoto his mouth full of brown, cracked teeth peeking out from under his wide-brimmed hat. “I’ve got proof,” he rasped. “That Palpatine is still alive. And he’s finally gonna be doin’ something ‘bout this New Republic.”

Resoto’s breath caught. The tall tankard of ale in his hand was immediately forgotten, and he had to use all his concentration on appearing to remain calm. When he finally could trust himself to speak without his voice cracking, he said, “Is that so?” His pounding heart made it hard to keep the quiver out of his tone.

The rotting broker noticed. “Aye. And if ye want to know _where_ his operations is startin’ up, it’ll cost ya extra.”

In hindsight, Resoto had probably been foolish to rifle immediately through the pockets of his filthy overcoat looking for any last credit chips that might be hiding there and pressing them into the old man’s hand. But what else could he have done at that age, fatherless, drunk, and desperate. Luckily for him, the old dog’s info was good. Within a few weeks of working compromising jobs, he was able to hire transport out to the sector he’d been told to head to, and there found the Shadow Academy.

This time, haggard and hung-over as he was, he was able to get himself recruited as a Stormtrooper, and with time and sobriety made his way into flight training. The day he finally put on the dark flight suit of a TIE pilot, he was sure this was the point where it all turned around. When he would make his fallen father proud.

His excitement had been short-lived, though; there was something about this reborn Emperor’s behavior just seemed _off._ He began to have misgivings about the legitimacy of the regime he’s pledged loyalty to. He watched the Dark Jedi that were being trained at the space station, and balked when a mere boy – barely as old as he’d been when Daala’s recruiters had told him to come back when his voice dropped – was made the Empire’s “Darkest Knight”. The whelp was put in charge of a large portion of the military, and what contention there was in the rest of the ranks seemed to remain underground, seething like boiling water in a sealed pot. Another mistake.

When the Shadow Academy hurriedly attacked Luke Skywalker’s Jedi academy and he saw that the Dark Jedi school would be easily defeated, Resoto fled in his small fighter. There was no sense in dying for his Emperor, assuming it was really him, if the man was a fool. If anything remained of the Second Imperium after the battle, he could rejoin them later, claiming he’d gotten in a dog fight with a rebel and chased him far from the battle to shoot him down. But of course, there was nothing left after Brakiss and the space station were both destroyed.

With his new training and a lifetime of rage behind him, Resoto was tired of waiting for someone else to create a new Empire while he just came along for the ride. There was obviously no one in the galaxy worth following, so he would lead.

And he wouldn’t make the same mistakes all the others had. He wouldn’t attack the rebels the first chance he got. He would build his fleet up first, make sure he was unstoppable. He started by rounding up the last few survivors and supporters of the Shadow Academy, and hiding out in an abandoned heavy freight ship for several weeks while he put together a plan. The freighter eventually drifted out of the systems controlled by the Republic, and he and his companions – who by now were so trodden down that they would do whatever they were told if it meant avoiding a New Republic jail cell – began recruiting from surrounding planets. Building military strength was his first priority. He recruited humans and aliens, male and female; no sense in wasting the strength of willing beings. When he had enough force behind him, he would secure a capital planet and defend it. The New Republic couldn’t meddle with a perfectly legal government, so that’s what he would set up.

Then he would attack.

It would take a long time, though. He had no delusions of a quick rise to power. Help, and even sympathy, for Imperial supporters was rare. But Resoto was a patient man. Things would right themselves in the end. If there was any sanity left in the galaxy at least, they would. And if there wasn’t any sanity left in the galaxy? Well, then he’d just have to work that much harder to find the miracle that would bring him and his fleet to power.

His crew of followers was “fifteen hundred strong” as he liked to put it. He sent encrypted messages out to the seediest bars and cantinas in the outer systems, hoping to find new pilots and soldiers. _More like me._ More sons and daughters of the Empire who’d had their families and dreams shattered by an upstart Jedi and his friends. The New Republic was full of would-be traitors to its own cause. He just had to find them.

Resoto let his fleet linger in and out of hyperspace while he tried to figure out how to obtain more men and ships. It was an admitted miracle he’d been able to scrap together as much as he had in these short years. _Somebody or something is looking out for me. If the Force is a real thing, it wants this to happen_ , he thought.

An alarm began squaking from one of the Star Destroyer’s front consoles. A young operator spoke up: “Sir, sensors indicate an unknown object approximately five billion kilometers from here. It . . . it looks like a planet!” She looked up at him, questions on her face that she was not speaking because her new military training told her not to say anything stupid. _What do I do now?_

“Well, then get us away from it!” he ordered the navigational crew. “Preferably before they see us.”

“But sir,” the sensor operator objected. “It’s not on any of our star charts.”

“What do you mean, not on the charts? It has to be there. You’re not reading it right.”

“I’m sorry, sir. There’s no planet marked here.” Her big dumb eyes kept watching him expectantly. “Maybe it’s uncharted?”

An uncharted planet. Now that was worth paying attention to.

“I’m picking up sparce lifeform readings,” she continued as the fleet sped closer to the plant, bringing the shiny green orb to hang in the front viewports. “Ninety-nine percent human or humanoid. There are also several settlements, and some basic technology readings, but no outer shields. Should was try to hail them?” She waited a moment. “Sir?”

“No,” Resoto replied quickly. “I’m not in the mood for diplomatic chit-chat.” _If this is an uncharted and, presumably, unclaimed primitive planet, then I think we just found out new home._ “There are no shields; let’s go see what’s down there and introduce ourselves, shall we?”


	3. Chapter 3

A LARGE SMOOTH stone floated over the top of the jungle river. Before it reached its destination, though, the speckled rock suddenly jutted upwards, shook nervously, and plummeted with a splash into the water.

Jaina Solo shook her head, forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Another stone, this one dark and full of crevices, rose in the air.

Although she and her twin brother Jacen hadn’t had a formal lesson in months, her Uncle Luke still insisted she practice using her Jedi abilities daily to keep her skills finely tuned. Now she sat alone in the dense Yavin 4 jungle, listening to the chirping of forest insects and struggling to lift even these measly stones. The rock that was the focus of her attention at the moment wavered in the air, then gently came to rest on another right beneath it on the ground. She let her breath out in a sigh. Several other less fortunate stones lay in the shallows of the large river, testimony to Jaina’s distraction.

The jungle around her buzzed and hummed with life, and perspiration glistened on her face and neck. This would have been a better exercise if she’d been able to focus worth a damn, but her thoughts had been seeming to wander for days. It was a shame Zekk hadn’t been here to work with her.

And therein lay the heart of the problem.

She and Zekk had been apart for long periods of time before, but this time seemed different. Seemed so _permanent_. Now that their Jedi training was complete – as least as much as it could be at the academy – each of the newly anointed Jedi had to determine a new path for their lives, where to go now. _So, what are we waiting for?_

Right now, Jaina sat and wrapped her bare arms around her jumpsuited knees. She, herself, had no idea what she wanted to do now, or why she wasn’t yet doing it. She couldn’t tell what her future was meant to hold. Neither could Zekk, but Uncle Luke had suggested he go back to Ennth for a time. Because the troubled planet needed help recovering from its latest disaster, he’d said. And because the troubled young man needed a sense of purpose – maybe even as an ambassador to the small world he was born on. Zekk must have agreed with him; he’d barely spoken to Jaina about it before she was watching the back side of the _Lightning Rod_ ’s propulsion engines. She had to admit it wasn’t something she could see him enjoying, but two months later and barely a holomessage to confirm he was still alive, and Jaina began to wonder if maybe he was liking his new role better than either of them could have anticipated. Maybe he was planning to stay on Ennth after all.

She sat another moment, allowing her breath and her heart rate to return to normal, then got up and turned to make the long walk back to the great Massassi temple. She was more than a little eager to get to a refresher and take a long, cool shower spray.

As she reached the base of the great pyramid, she caught up with Jacen, who was returning from his own exercises. His cheeks were ruddy, and smeared with dried mud, and his normally tousled brown hair was a veritable womp rat’s nest of twigs and dust. “Hey, it looks like you had a good workout,” he greeted her, grinning. Without waiting for her to respond, he asked, “Where’s Tenel Ka? I just came up with a new joke I want to tell her.”

Jaina feigned a grimace. “So that’s what you do instead of training, huh?” She watched her brother’s smile crack for a moment before she continued. “Tenel Ka was down by the river with Lowie, swimming laps.” She cocked her head. “But that was a couple hours ago. I don’t know where either of them is now. Why don’t you try it on me first?” She knew that inviting Jacen to tell a joke was akin to volunteering herself for rancor baiting, but his strange humor might help her get her mind off of Zekk.

Jacen barely had time to open his mouth, though, before they both had their attention drawn to the sky by the distant rumble of a ship approaching the academy landing pad. “Hey, that’s the _Lightning Rod_!” Jacen exclaimed as he gazed up at the cargo shuttle streaking by overhead. “It’s Zekk!” But Jaina had already broken into a run for the landing area. She soon heard the uneven footsteps of her brother rushing to catch up to her.

The Solo twins reached the landing pad, gasping for breath, just as the exit ramp lowered on the battered old supply cruiser. Jaina bit her lower lip as she watched it descend. Like a mirage, Zekk strolled down the ramp and tossed his dark hair, a shade lighter than black, over his shoulder. He wore a broad grin that looked painted onto his pale face. “Surpri-“

He’d barely gotten the entire word out when Jaina hit him full force, throwing herself into his arms. He recovered quickly, lifting her off the ground and spinning her into a hug. They held the embrace for a moment longer, and Jaina was surprised by the heat that rushed onto her cheeks. Her heart was still pounding, but that must just have been from sprinting to meet his ship. They drew apart and she quickly used the Force to return her coloring to normal as she looked up at him. She’d always looked up to Zekk, for the simple reason that he stood a full head and shoulder taller than she did. “It’s good to see you again,” she said.

“I’m glad to be back,” he replied, giving her another quick hug. “Hi, Jacen.”

Jaina turned to catch her twin watching them, and giving her a very curious look. There were few emotions she and her brother had ever been able to hide from each other, and her emotions in this instant had caught his attention. Their eyes met briefly, just long enough for her to know he wasn’t going to divulge his curiosity to Zekk. “What brings you back to Yavin 4 in such a hurry that you couldn’t warn us you were coming first?” Jacen asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He no longer seemed to be paying any attention to his sister.

“Oh,” Zekk answered, as if truly stumped for a moment by his question. “It was past time for me to come back anyway. And I figured you guys could use a good surprise.”

Jaina snorted. “Like we haven’t had enough of those over the years.”

“ _Speaking_ of sarcasm,” her brother continued, letting Zekk’s answer lie. “You haven’t escaped hearing my joke, Jay. You _volunteered._ ” Jaina moaned as Zekk gave her a questioning look, as if Jacen had just told him Jaina’d decided to give up being a Jedi Knight in favor of joining the Galactic Circus. “Ok, here goes: what’s big, and red, and eats womp rats?” Jacen raised his eyebrows.

“An embarrassed Krayt dragon?” Jaina guessed, already knowing the real answer would be much worse.

“Good guess, but no. You give up? _A big, red, womp rat eater!_ ” Jacen waited, his eyebrows waggling up and down comically. “Not that funny?” he implored, sounding defeated.

Zekk chuckled. “You’ve hit a new low, Jacen.”

“I liked my answer better,” Jaina said, rolling her eyes.

Jacen, recovering quickly, said, “Fine then. Zekk, everybody’s going to be really surprised when they see you’re back already. Come on, you’re just in time for mid-day meal.” He glanced down at his clothes, then back over at Jaina. “Well, maybe the two of us should go to the mess hall by way of the refreshers, huh?”

Jaina felt her cheeks flush again. She’d forgotten she’d spent the last three hours marinating in her own sweat and being eaten by forest flies. Her hand flew to her hair to tuck a limp strand behind her ear, and found her fingers tangled in it. She bit her lip and yanked them free. She turned to Zekk and smiled apologetically. “I think he’s right. Food in fifteen minutes?”

Thankfully he returned her smile, not seeming to notice her snarled hair. “Of course. I’m going to go through my post-flight checks. Meet you inside?”

She nodded and, somewhat reluctantly, followed her brother off the landing pad. She stole a glance back at Zekk, as if he might have been a figment of her imagination, but he had his back to them now, checking something on one of the extending arms of the boarding ramp.

“Jaina,” she heard her brother call, and turned back around again to find he was several yards ahead of her. “He’ll still be there in fifteen minutes. Hot water, on the other hand, is in limited supply. And everybody else is getting back from their morning exercises now, too.” Then he threw her a crooked grin. “Kinda looks like you could maybe use a cold shower, though!”

 

The large dining hall, being located about half-way up the temple, had needed only minimal repairs and some refinishing after the Shadow Academy blew the top of the ancient structure off almost three years ago. If you hadn’t eaten in it every day since before it was damaged, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between the original and the repaired versions.

An hour after the dark-haired young man’s arrival, Jacen, Jaina and Zekk sat together with the rest of their friends over their various meals, catching up on what they had been doing since they’d last spoke. Anakin, the twins’ younger brother, watched the discussion with some interest, darting his ice-blue eyes from his brother and sister to the warrior girl, Tenel Ka, to the wookie, Lowbaccase, and his miniaturized translating droid, Em Teedee, who bobbed about happily on his microrepulsor jets. Anakin didn’t participate in the conversation, though, seemingly happy enough to just soak the banter in like a sponge.

Raynar, a young man of Aldaraanian heritage, and Lusa, a coppery-colored Centauriform girl, entered the dining hall and immediately found their way to the group of friends. Lusa sat down, as best she could, beside Anakin, with Raynar taking a seat beside her. The centaurian young woman had been kidnapped, along with Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin, when she was a young child, and as a vent for her lingering anger over the assault, she had joined the anti-human political movement, the Diversity Alliance a couple years ago.

Led by the Twi’lek woman, Nolaa Tarkona, the Diversity Alliance spoke of justice for alien species that had been persecuted by humans. But the movement had taken unnecessarily violent measures to achieve its goals, including plotting to release a plague that would kill all humans. Lusa had realized the error in their way of thinking. She left the Diversity Alliance and returned to her friends, Jacen and especially Jaina. After the Diversity Alliance was defeated, and the deadly plague destroyed, Lusa had remaind at the academy to train. Raynar, who had lost his father to the Diversity Alliance’s plague, had become a good friend of Lusa and helped her regain her trust in humans. Now they were very close.

“Hey, you guys,” Raynar began cheerfully. “Lusa and I already ate, and we were just on our way out to take a walk, but then we saw the _Thunderbolt_ coming in for its final approach. I had a feeling you’d want to meet Peckhum and help him with the latest delivery.”

Zekk’s emerald eyes flashed with excitement. “Thanks, Raynar. I think it’s about time I started making myself useful around here again anyway.”

“Well, then,” Jaina said, meeting his bright eyes. “What are we waiting for?”

 

The _Thunderbolt_ was a three-year-old supply shuttle that had been given to old Peckhum by the New Republic as a replacement for the out-of-date _Lightning Rod._ Though resisting the change of ships at first, he accepted the new shuttle after giving the _Lightning Rod_ to Zekk. The old supply shuttle had helped Zekk get a fresh start in his life.

When the newer ship touched down on the landing pad and the exit ramp extended, Zekk stepped forward to greet his old friend. Peckhum smiled immediately when he saw the young man, and greeted Zekk with a bear hug. After the two exchanged surprised greetings, Zekk explained that he had felt he’d stayed away from his friends for too long, and had decided to return early to Yavin 4. He didn’t tell Peckhum, or anybody, about the dreams.

“I have to admit,” Peckhum said. “I didn’t expect you’d be here, but it’s a pleasant surprise. Things go okay on Ennth?”

Zekk grimaced and didn’t answer the question. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later,” he told the old spacer. “Right now, we need to get those supplies into the temple.”

“I guess I could take a few hours off once we load all this stuff out,” Peckhum answered thoughtfully, scratching his stubbly chin. “But I have this other shipment due in a week to some place called Uekra, so I can’t stay long. It’ll take a few days to get there. Blast, I wish I’d known you were gonna be here.” He clapped Zekk on the shoulder again, and Zekk returned the gesture, suddenly wishing he had given more warning of his return to the jungle moon after all. The grizzled older man sighed and started back up the ramp, then stopped suddenly.

His knees buckled visibly beneath him, and he clenched a hand to his chest. Peckhum began to collapse. Jacen, who had been watching the reunion from a distance with his sister, Tenel Ka, and Lowie, rushed up the ramp with Zekk to catch him as he fell.

They quickly helped Peckhum, who kept insisting he was fine, to his feet. After the pain hit a second time, Zekk knitted his eyebrows and said, “Peckhum, I really think we need to get you over to the med center.” Peckhum, eyes shut, made like he was about to refuse, then tensed up, sucked in his breath through his teeth, and began nodding in small, quick movements. Zekk looked at Jacen and the two young men hoisted Peckhum up so they were supporting all his weight between them. Right before the old man passed out.

 

Sitting on an uncomfortable cot next to a stuffy medical droid was not how Peckhum had planned to spend his afternoon. But then, few of his days ever turned out just how he expected anyway.

He had been unconscious one standard hour, but it had felt like an eternity. He hated being sick, and he hated other people having to take care of him, and he was quickly remembering how much he hated med centers and their droids. The bothersome machine next to him had been performing every test that was stored in its processor on him, as far as Peckhum could tell. Zekk and his friends had also, of course, stayed to make sure he was all right.

“I have finished my tests, Mister Peckhum,“ the droid announced in its tinny, robotic voice.

“Finally,” Peckhum muttered with exasperation.

“It seems that you have contracted a Galvornian Mog worm. This condition is rarely fatal if treated promptly. You are lucky we detected it so early. You are in no present danger, if we begin treatment immediately.”

“Wait, what are _Mog_ worms?” Jacen Solo asked. “I’ve never heard of them before.” Peckhum was slightly surprised there was a creature alive that the kid didn’t know about. He’d heard about the menagerie Jacen kept in his room at the academy.

“They are parasites that tunnel through the body and into the brain. That is what causes the blackouts and fainting, and, if untreated, irreparable brain damage or death,” the droid replied matter-of-factly. “It was probably ingested from a piece of unchecked fruit or vegetable.” Peckhum’s mind flared with anger for a moment. The street merchants on Tatooine had _assured_ him that fruit was safe. “The worm can be killed with an anti-parasitic injection,” the medical droid continued.

“Great,” Peckhum said sarcastically. “Give me the shot so I can get outta here.”

“I’m afraid it is not that simple, sir,” the nasal voice of the artificial doctor stopped him. “Your particular case will require the use of a bacta tank as well to repair the tissue damage. But don’t worry: you’ll be back on your feet in about one standard week.”

Peckhum’s eyes opened wider than he thought possible, considering how recently he’d been unconscious. “A _week_?! I have another shipment due in a week! There’s no way I can get there in time if I’m floating around in a tank that long,” he exclaimed. “Uh-uh. There’s got to be a different way. These are important supplies.” But he already knew the battle was lost. He would be no good to anyone dead.

Zekk stepped forward. “Peckhum, I could take the supplies to Uekra in the _Lightning Rod_. She’s still a cargo ship.” He looked across the room at Jaina Solo, who was biting her lower lip. “You guys could come along. I could use the company.”

Peckhum looked questioningly from Zekk to each of his friends for a moment, then finally agreed. “I’m sure you kids could handle it. I’ll just give you the authorization codes and coordinates. Should probably send ‘em a message sayin’ you’re coming instead of me, so you don’t get any trouble.”

Jacen grinned at the other young Jedi standing around him. “Just like old times, huh?” he commented. “Only let’s try to stay out of trouble this time, okay?”

“Like we have a choice,” Jaina said, rolling her eyes. “I think excitement seems to follow us around. But, still . . . .”

“What are we waiting for?” Jacen guessed.

Jaina flashed a lopsided smile at her brother and Zekk. “Exactly.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warlord Resoto makes some new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter. Sorry it took awhile. ^_^;

RESOTO ADJUSTED HIS pressed and ironed Imperial uniform. He always made sure that his entire body was neat and clean, and that his clothes were in perfect order. Especially when meeting new associates. He nodded to the royal guards on either side of him, and motioned to another officer to lower the boarding ramp of his lambda-class shuttle.

Being the head of all the new Imperial forces, Resoto insisted on being presented with severe pomp and circumstance. This included a flanking of two Imperial royal guards, a stormtrooper escort, and the playing of a regal Imperial march. It helped him maintain his sense of power over his followers.

The ramp of the shuttle let loose a hiss of released air as it opened. When it hit the ground, Resoto began his procession into the outdoor landing pad of the strange new plant. Suddenly, the entire cluster of troops stopped short, and Resoto barely saved himself from crashing into the guard leading his way down the ramp.

They were met by soldiers with blasters and force pikes, all pointed directly at Resoto’s men.

Imperial soldiers with blasters and force pikes pointed directly at Resoto’s men.

The stormtroopers instinctively drew their own blasters, then lowered them slightly when the awkwardness of aiming at others in their own uniform hit them. Resoto calmly raised his hand for them to completely lower their weapons, though he himself was still in shock. If someone had asked him what he expected to encounter at the end of the ramp, this would have been his very last guess.

A stocky, pudgy man with peppery grey mustaches stood inside the large group of stormtroopers in badly scuffed armor, who still hadn’t lowered their own weapons. He was stuffed into a faded Grand Animal’s uniform, and Resoto could only assume that was his rank . . . whether self-appointed or not. “Who the hell are you?” Grand Admiral Sausage asked as sternly as possible, a flustered blush rising onto his cheeks despite his gruff voice.

Resoto took a broad step forward and squared his shoulders in a symbol of pride. “I am Imperial Warlord Resoto” – he had half a mind to call himself ‘Emperor,’ but it didn’t seem suitable, at least not yet – “and these are my troops.” His lips pealed back in a sly smile as he spoke, hoping to win over the Admiral. “I can assume that you, too, are loyal to the Empire, Admiral . . . uh, . . .”

“Vaheem,” the pudgy man answered. “Grand Admiral Vaheem. And this is my facility. Why are you here? The Emperor has not sent any word that you were coming. Where is your authorization code, Warlord Resoto?” He spat the name.

Resoto was taken a bit aback by this comment. Could this pompous idiot actually think Palpatine was still alive? He couldn’t possibly be a real Imperial Grand Admiral with these kinds of radical delusions; unles s . . . .

Resoto straightened his face, hoping Vaheem hadn’t noticed his slipping expression. “Just how long did you say it’s been since you last got a visit from Palpatine?”

Vaheem eyed him suspiciously. “I don’t see what that has to do with your not having authorization to be here. I should be the one asking the questions here, you-“

“You idiot!” Resoto bellowed with obvious restriction of laughter. “What emperor are you talking about? Palpatine has been dead for nearly twenty years; that’s why he hasn’t told you about me, and that’s why I don’t have your kriffing authorization documents.” He crossed his arms triumphantly over his chest. “The rebel scum blew him to space slag along with his pitiful second Death Star in nothing more than a Corellian cargo hauler. A cargo hauler!”

Vaheem grew red in the face, and Resoto began to question his quick words. Flecks of spittle flew from his lips as he spoke. “You will not speak of the great Emperor Palpatine that way or I’ll to it that you . . .”

“The Emperor was a fool; was a fool. But now he’s dead.” Resoto took a deep breath. Too late to un-say it now. “It’s . . . obvious that you are very confused. If you would be, er, kind enough to step inside my shuttle, I’ll gladly explain everything. Of course, you’re free to bring your own guards, if you don’t trust me.” He glanced around at all the soldiers.

Grand Admiral Vaheem stared back at him with ice cold eyes.

Resoto shrugged, acting as if it didn’t matter to him, and turned to begin marching back up the boarding ramp of his shuttle. He turned his head just slightly to look back over his shoulder, and was pleased to see that Vaheem and several of his guards were reluctantly following him. He smiled to himself. “If you don’t mind, Sir,” one of Resoto’s troops approached him. “Do you think we can trust them?”

He had become accustomed to troops feeling comfortable expressing their opinions, and he quietly replied, “It’s okay. I don’t think they have much choice in this matter. We can use that to our advantage.”

* * *

The inside of Warlord Resoto’s diplomatic shuttle quickly filled with armored guards, confusion, and tension. The stormtroopers shifted and fidgeted silently around the oval table while their commanding officers, argued, debated, and challenged one another.  
“Grand Admiral . . . Vaheem, was it?” Resoto persisted. “We are both civilized men, are we not? Both simply working for the glory of the Empire. We should not have to be arguing like this. I’ve already accepted your story, and given you proof that what I tell you is true. Why do you choose to willfully ignore reason?”

Vaheem took a breath, and rested his forearms on the table, meeting Resoto’s eyes. “To recap, then, if I may: you state that the Emperor died twenty years ago at the hand of pitiful rebels who have now taken over the government and effectively wiped out the entire Empire. But you have taken it upon yourself to rebuild the Imperial forces. And you expect me to believe that someone like you would be left in charge of such a task?” He blinked his dull brown eyes, and his bent nose shriveled up in a sneer. “You’re not half of what I expect an Imperial soldier to be! Your manner is sarcastic and cynical, and your troops have no sense of military discipline. I even see you have aliens and women in your ranks. You, sir, are a mockery of everything our great Emperor stands for.” His face was a bit red again.

Resoto reached for a tall vile of golden liquid, and put his booted feet up on the table. “I told you, no one left me in charge. I simply-“ he paused to pour himself a glass and took a sip of the beverage – “took up the mantle left for me. I’m sorry if I seem to have insulted the late, great Emperor Palpatine in your eyes. I ensure it wasn’t my precise intention. You drink, don’t you, Admiral?” Without waiting for reply, he poured another portion into a glass held out by one of his stormtroopers and motioned it to be taken to Vaheem, who sniffed at it and watched Resoto take another long swallow before drinking himself. Resoto continued, “You said yourself that this is a top-secret facility, and that no one but Darth Vader and the Emperor himself knew of its existence.”

Vaheem nodded slowly. “Anyone else who comes to Raama 1 does not leave with knowledge that it exists.” Behind him, one of his stormtroopers stood up a little straighter and cocked his blaster rifle.

“Then isn’t it possible that they died, and therefore, your little installation was forgotten?” Resoto reasoned, ignoring the trooper’s gesture.  
Vaheem stiffened, as if struck. “I suppose it is a very unlikely possibility . . . .”

“But, it is possible,” Resoto finished for him. “Your emperor was not as stupid as he was merely sloppy. Now that I am in charge of the Imperial forces, I feel I should inform you there are going to be some changes. For example, since you brought it up, we are no longer going to bar women and alien species from service,” he announced, challenging the stuffy Vaheem with his eyes. “They are far too valuable as fighters in many cases, and the alien worlds will fall more quickly and voluntarily if they aren’t going to be made into slaves in the process.” Vaheem crossed his arms and glared in response. “But all that aside, the question at hand is whether you and your men are going to peacefully accept your new place in the Empire, or if you’re going to make problems. And I know you despise problems, Admiral.”

Vaheem’s face remained frigid. “Well, it appears I don’t have a lot of choices, do I?” Despite the older man’s defiant tone of voice, Resoto could tell he had finally subdued the stocky little man. “But mark my words, Resoto,” he continued, “if you slip up, I’m going to kick you further down, not help you up.” The Grand Admiral signaled for his guards to be at ease.

Resoto took his boots off the table and extended the remains of his glass across it towards Vaheem. “Thank you, Vice Admiral. I knew that a warm, kind man such as yourself would do the right thing.” Vaheem frowned, but reluctantly clinked his glass against Resoto’s, and the two men drank. “Now,” Resoto said, placing his empty glass firmly on the table while Vaheem finished his last sips. “What do you boys do out here all by yourselves anyway?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travel troubles and more awkward moments.

AS THE LIGHTNING Rod zipped through another hyperspace jump, Jacen found himself watching Tenel Ka. The warrior girl was standing on her single hand atop a large crate with her feet pressed against the ceiling. Her red-gold braids fell around her face and brushed the top of the crate lightly.

“Hey, can I try that, Tenel Ka?” Jacen asked, eager for anything that would keep him busy. And hopefully give him an excuse to talk to the young woman.

“If you like,” she replied , her cool gray eyes flicking towards him. But she only diverted her attention to him for a moment. Jacen pulled over another crate the same size as Tenel Ka’s. He could see the muscles in her arm tightening and releasing, shaking all the time in a vain attempt to remain stiff while the stump of her left arm shifted position jerkily in the air. As Jacen put both hands onto his crate and hoisted himself into an inverted position to press his booted feet to the ceiling, he could appreciate her efforts.

“Hey, wanna hear a joke?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. “Oh, c’mon. I promise it won’t be too bad,” he continued when he saw Tenel Ka’s eyes questioning him.

“Very well. You may proceed with the joke, Jacen, my friend,” she surrendered. Her granite-grey eyes hardened again in concentration.

Jacen shifted a little atop his crate. He had to admit to himself that he had a little bit of a crush on the warrior girl, and the word ‘friend’ wasn’t exactly what he wanted from her lips.

His eyes darted swiftly to Zekk and Jaina in the Lightning Rod’s cockpit, having a conversation he couldn’t hear and didn’t feel compelled to intrude on by using the Force to heighten his senses. It was hard to have a real conversation with Tenel Ka sometimes. She was usually so serious. That was probably the reason he wasn’t quite as close to her as he’d like.

“Okay, why did the Hutt cross the road?” He grinned at her, but, as always, Tenel Ka’s face remained expressionless. She met his brandy-brown gaze, waiting. “Because he was into long-distance running! Get it? Hutts don’t . . . move . . . very fast . . . and . . . oh, never mind,” he finished lamely.

“Jacen, my friend,” Tenel Ka said. “You lied.”

“Huh?”

“You promised the joke would not be bad.” A hint of a smile played on her lips. “It was.”

Jacen stared at her with surprise for a moment, then burst out in a laughing fit so hard that he lost his balance. “Whoa!” he yelled as he tumbled to the floor. And, to his surprise, even though she didn’t actually laugh, Tenel Ka followed suite.

* * *

“Are you all right back there?” Jaina called over her shoulder as she heard her brother crashing to the ground. She turned to see Jacen rubbing his sore head, but he would be okay. From the back of the ship, she heard Lowie yell a loud question to Jacen and Tenel Ka as well.

She quickly turned around again to the sound of Zekk chuckling. She smiled. The two settled back in the pilots’ seats and looked out the front viewport, gazing at the warped scene of hyperspace. They’d had to take a small detour to avoid a once-a-century asteroid cluster that was passing through the normal route to Uekra, but light speed still looked the same. Jaina really didn’t mind the longer route; it just meant more time to catch up with Zekk.

Their conversation about hyperdrives had been interrupted by the tumblings of Jacen and Tenel Ka in the crew cabin, and Jaina used the opportunity to change the subject. “I’ve really missed you, Zekk,” she started, taking a sudden interest in her hands in her lap. Her friend’s emerald eyes turned soft.

“Yeah, I missed you, too,” he replied. Jaina kept smiling, and for a moment, everything was quiet.

Sudd  
Suddenly the ship jolted to one side. Jaina steadied herself in her seat, then leaned forward to the control panel. “What was that?” Zekk yelled beside her. The Lightning Rod continued to rock and lurched out of hyperspace. “We’re not supposed to stop here!”

Alarms squealed and Jacen and Tenel Ka came running to the cockpit. Lowbacca and Em Teedee, who had been working on programming a new game into the ship’s computer, were immediately behind them. Lowie let out a Wookie roar. Em Teedee began translating, though it was no longer necessary. “Master Lowbacca wishes to know the events which are presently transpiring and the reasons for them.” The human Jedi, though, knew what he’d actually said was more along the lines of, “What’s going on? What are we shaking?”

“Short range sensors are picking up something in our flight direction, but it’s not on any of our maps!” Jaina had switched into complete tech mode, and was examining and interpreting readouts as fast as the computers could spit them out. Her eyes darted up from the screen and met her companions’. “According to this, it’s about the size of a planet, and we’re getting pretty close to being stuck in its gravitational pull.”

Zekk wrestled with the pilot’s controls, trying to keep the ship from spinning out of control. “It is a planet,” he called out after a glance out the front viewport revealed a large sphere, growing larger rapidly as the raced towards it.

“But it’s still pretty far away,” Jacen objected. “Any chance we can just avoid it?”

“It must have a pretty far-reaching gravitational pull, because we’re already feeling it” Zekk answered with a grimace. He turned to his copilot and met her brown eyes. “Plus the sudden pull out of hyperspeed damaged some of our systems. I think we’re going to have to try for a decent crash landing and hope the natives are friendly. “

By this time, the jade-colored shape of the unknown planet had rushed up to the chunky cargo freighter and pulled it into its atmosphere. Jaina squinted down at the area they were barreling towards. A dense collage of tall trees was being driven back by a large settlement evident in the center.

The Lightning Rod tumbled about as it entered the planet’s weather without chance to prepare. “The planet seems to be fairly heavily populated, and technologically advanced. I cannot see why it is not marked on any of our stellar maps.” Tenel K read the computer output and voiced what all of them were thinking. Frantically pushing buttons and working controls, with their Force-attuned minds joined as one, Jaina and Zekk maneuvered the ramshackle ship into a clearing large enough to accommodate them while taking out as few trees as possible.

Zekk pulled out the landing gear, and Jaina listened in horror as the metal feet were ripped off with a screech of steel and earth meeting in a way there were never meant to. All six of the ship’s passengers were thrown around inside the confining cargo hauler as it scraped against the ground and eventually stopped when it hit an immense rock protruding from the soil. As the ship jostled to a hault, Jaina and Zekk received the worst of the battering, being thrown into the controls and front transparisteel window. They hadn’t even had time to fasten their crash webbing in the commotion. Jaina felt the impact of her head meeting the pilot’s control before the chaotic world around her faded to blackness.

* * *

Zekk blinked open his emerald-green eyes to see Jaina leaning over him with something he couldn’t quite identify, but was probably from the Lightning Rod’s medical kit, he assumed. She touched it to his forehead. It was wet and stung like crazy. He winced and started to sit up.

Jaina used her free hand to grab his shoulder and keep him still. She gave him a sympathetic look and said, “Easy. I know this stuff hurts. Trust me.” Zekk noticed dark blood oozing from an ugly gash above her left eye, no doubt from where she’d smashed into the control console when the ship went down. A light blue residue surrounded the cut, obviously left from the same kind of solution she was now applying to him, and Zekk observed the blood was drying quickly. He relaxed a little.

“How long was I unconscious?” he asked. Jaina finished applying the treatment fluid to his cuts and sealed the applicator up in a red biohazard container.

“About four hours,” she replied. “I think. I know you didn’t come to for a couple hours after I did, and Jacen said he thinks I was out for two.”

“Where are Jacen and the others?” Zekk inquired, suddenly aware that he and Jaina were alone back in his small living quarters.

“Lowie and Em Teedee are checking out the ship’s computers, finding out what’s damaged and seeing what they can fix. Jacen was feeling kind of out-of-place, so he volunteered to go outside and look for external damage to the hull. Tenel Ka, of course, insisted on going with him. For safety reasons.” 

“Of course,” Zekk replied with a knowing smile. “Is the atmosphere breathable? You guys checked, didn’t you?”

Jaina gave him a questioning look. “Of course we checked. It has the perfect conditions for humanoid species. This isn’t our first air rodeo, you know.”

“Just wasn’t sure you could handle yourselves without me around,” he joked, hoping to cover up the unintentional slight, and flashed her a sly grin. He winced a little as he realized there was apparently a good-sized cut on his cheek as well.

Jaina pulled another wet blue swab out of the med kit. “I think we can manage,” she countered. “But don’t you go thinking of running off again.”

Zekk took her hand as she reached it towards his face. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly.

They were quickly distracted by a hellish howl from outside the ship. “Hey, that sounded like . . .”

“TIE fighters!” Jacen yelled as he ran into the room.


	6. Chapter 6

THE SOUND OF explosions thundered in Zekk’s ears. He furiously tried to blink away the awful images of small jungle animals scurrying for shelter as ominous black fighters darted back and fourth in the sky dropping grenades on the foliage. His head shook violently as he was pulled back to reality as Jaina grabbed his upper arm.

Lowie roared. Em Teedee whistled in panic. Jacen was breathing heavily. Tenel Ka announced supporting facts to Jacen’s discovery loudly. Jaina was shouting back at them, trying to calm everyone down, but barely able to keep her own voice from faltering. It was all a blur to Zekk. Then a realization hit him. “The dreams . . .” he whispered. “No . . . .”

“What?” Jacen had been the only one to hear him.

“Oh,” Zekk hesitated. “ . . . nothing. Just wondering how TIE fighters ended up here.”

Jaina threw him a questioning look. She knew him too well. “That’s what we all were thinking,” she put in anyway.

Glancing around at all the worried faces, she bit her lower lip. “You know, they may not be Imperial. They might have crashed here a long time ago and the people here put them back together for their own use. After all, when we found Qorl’s fighter back on Yavin IV, that’s what we were going to do.” No one’s expression changed. “Okay, so maybe it isn’t that likely. But we still need to find out a little bit more about these ghost ships before jumping to any conclusions.” Heads began to nod around her, and she turned back to Zekk. He forced a weak smile, and let her help him up. The company began to creep toward the exit hatch of the Lightning Rod, wary of what might await them.

The sunlight outside was bright, and the forests growing out of the hard soil were not unlike those on Dathomir or Myrkr, but the howls of the TIE fighters blocked out the otherwise friendly forest sounds. The companions stepped outside to face whatever this place was. Zekk’s heart nearly stopped again – just as Jacen and Tenel Ka had said, there were the fighters, shooting across the sky. “Oh dear me, do you think they see us?” Em Teedee asked nervously.

“Of course they can see us,” Zekk replied. “That’s why they’re circling. But it’s what they’re going to do about it that we need to be worried about.”

Jacen pointed out to the horizon. “I saw a settlement out that way as we passed over,” he remarked. “Maybe we should go check it out. Without immediately announcing our presence, of course.” Lowie rumbled cautious agreement.

“A suitable suggestion, friend Jacen,” Tenel Ka said. “Best to see what we are up against before we are faced with it.”

The forest was nearly silent around them as the TIEs swooped away across the sky. “Okay,” Zekk said, breaking the brief quiet. “Jaina, come help me find the camolage netting and cloaking shields. We’ll throw those over the Lightning Rod. If those TIEs come back with friends, at least they’ll have some trouble finding the thing. Jacen. Tenel Ka. You two gather up some supplies in case we run into trouble, because that seems pretty likely. Lowie and Em Teedee, go around and shut off all the systems we won’t be needing, and then keep going on repairs until we’re ready to go. We may need to get out of here in a hurry.”

Lowie grunted a quick answer. “Master Lowbacca says that it is going to be difficult to depart at the present time. Several of the internal systems are still damaged or offline, and the landing gear is practically destroyed. Sir, from what I know, I would not recommend trying to take off,” Em Teedee translated. His gold optical sensors flashed a little.

“Then let’s hope this is the one time we don’t find trouble. And maybe these people will even be able to help with repairs. Sounds like we may need it. Let’s go,” Zekk said, and quickly the Jedi were off to their assigned tasks. Preparation was quick and orderly. They all knew they might be heading into enemy territory, but it was a risk that had to be taken. 

Only a couple hours later, they stood outside the Lightning Rod looking at the ship with its camouflage on one last time before they left. Then, with packs of supplies on their backs, the six companions marched towards the setting sun over the hill toward the unknown village.

* * *

Lowbacca looked to the side of the lush forest surrounding him and his friends. The tall trees reminded him of his home on Kashyyk, and at moments it took all his willpower not to just climb to the tops to look out at the last remnants of the day’s sun. The longing for things from home was hard to resist.

He allowed his thoughts to wander to Raaba, the chocolate-furred young Wookie woman whome he had thought dead, then found to be alive. She was then quickly snatched away again. He wondered where she was, if she was still alive. Funny, he thought. Even though he was surrounded by friends who cared about him, he still felt so alone sometimes.  
The group seemed to split off into pairs, he though. Jaina and Zekk (now more than ever), Jacen and Tenel Ka, even Raynar and Lusa back at the Academy. And he was left alone. Alone, that was, except for Em Teedee, and though the little droid was just as much a person to Lowie as he was a machine, the little hovering silver oval lacked the understanding and feelings of a real friend. Oh, how Lowie longed for Raaba to return, so that he would have someone more like himself to talk with.  
The village was beginning to draw near. He gave a short whine to signal the others that their long walk would be over soon. Lowie lifted his head up and prepared his mind to move on to whatever waiting for them amidst the small stone buildings.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaheem takes a tour of his newly-acquired Imperial facility.

RESOTO’S BOOTS CLOMPED on the metal floor and were echoed by the sound of a dozen stormtroopers behind him. Vaheem walked beside him. The Admiral was taking his new commander officer on a tour of the outpost. “As you can see, Captain Resoto-“  
“Sir will suffice, thank you,” Resoto objected.  
Vaheem gave him an icy look, but didn’t say whatever he was thinking. “As you can see, sir, cleanliness and an absence of bacteria is a necessity in a medical facility such as this,” he continued.  
“Medical facility?” Resoto scoffed. “I don’t believe Palpatine would have made such a secret out of a medical facility.” As the last syllable left his mouth, his mind caught up with him and he bit down on his tongue so hard he nearly drew blood.  
Vaheem straightened a little more as the party entered a cold steel room. Row upon row of specimen flasks lined the metal shelves. Some were empty; others housed various creatures (or maybe they were organs?) that Resoto could not identify. “Well, this is a medical research facility. Sir. I must say, also, that the types of research our lord Emperor put us in charge of here would not . . . be necessary for the rest of the universe to know about.” He finished after a thoughtful pause.  
Resoto picked up one of the glass flasks from the wall and shook it gently, squinting at the gelatinous pink blob that floated in the viscous fluid inside. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and placed the cylinder back on the shelf with a clink. “And pray tell what sort of research is it that you’re doing here?” he asked, The blob inside the flask wriggled, and Resoto took a step back.  
Vaheem snorted through his nose and reached past Resoto to straighten the flask he’d just placed back on the shelf. The pink blob quieted.  
“Genetics,” he replied grimly, then turned on his heel and led the group out of the cool, sterilized room. The continued their tour of the Imperial facility, and Resoto noticed several spots where the duracrete walls were scuffed, chipped, or otherwise in need of repair. He wondered how long it had been since the facility had even seen a supply ship come through. And how much longer it would have been before someone had noticed they hadn’t.  
The group came to a large transparisteel window looking into a clean room. Resoto tried to hide his caution as he peered into the room.  
In the corner of the chamber lay what may once have been a human, but surely couldn’t be anymore. Two men in fell sanitation suiting stood over the creature with datpads, taking readings with various probes. The alien - or whatever he was - dripped with a slick, yellow ichor and looked about half-dead, his bony arms and legs practically lost in the ratty clothing he wore. He turned his old, weary gave towards Resoto for a moment, but barely seemed to even see him. If the pathetic being had noticed the self-proclaimed Imperial warlord, he quickly lost interest, for his head lolled back and away, gazing up towards the ceiling. Resoto looked away as well.  
“One of his majesty the Emperor’s creations,” Vaheem broke the silence. Resoto couldn’t tell if his voice held any measure of pride . . . or simply disgust. “He was genetically engineered before he was even conceived so that his entire body secretes a sweat which itself produces a highly-toxis gas. He killed his own mother shortly after birth. Unfortunately, it seems that the toxins have finally broken down even his own immune system. He’s dying now.”  
Resoto swallowed hard. “Why?” he managed to choke out.  
“Well, when the immune system is over-run and exhausted by perpetual attacks from disease or toxic substances, the body has no defense left against-”  
“I understand why he’s dying; I want to know why he was created in the first place.” Resoto’s voice began to rise, first back up his normal volume, then even above that.  
Vaheem narrowed his beady eyes, as if he couldn’t understand the necessity of such a question. “The Emperor was attempting to design a new kind of troop who could be a weapon in himself. The man you see here was a prototype. Emperor Palpatine plans to created an entire army like him. Or did. We will have to improve upon the genetic code before production of the clones can begin, though, it seems.”  
Resoto shook his head. “So that’s what you’re doing here: making mutants?” he inquired.  
“We also test various cures for the diseases the Emperor created to wipe out the species that have resisted falling into line under the Empire. We have developed cures for nearly every plague found in the Deep Core storehouse, should any of the viruses themselves start to cause concern for the stability of Imperial planets. Though I’m sure you already knew that before coming here, sir,” Vaheem continued matter-of-factly.  
Yes I heard that the former Emperor enjoyed playing God, Resoto thought. “We could have used some of your miracle cures a couple years ago when some of his hideous plagues got into the hands of alien dissidents,” he countered. He then waved a black leather-gloved hand at Vaheem. “Show me more.” Again, the sound of more than a dozen pairs of heavy boots clammered down the hallway.  
They passed several more clean rooms, each filled with more forlorn-looking human mutants. Resoto coulnt’ help but feel a slight pang of pity, maybe even guilt, for what the Emperor had done ot these people. Taking a deep breath of stale air, he squared his shoulders and asked Vaheem, “Where did the Emperor get all of his test subjects?”  
“Oh, mostly for worlds that refused to come under Imperial control. Didn’t know what was best for them. Pitiful rebels, and their children, who were born here of course,” Vaheem explained. He smiled sickly. “But now they serve the Empire another way.”  
“So you allowed them to freely breed here?” Resoto asked, taken a little aback. He’d never experienced and Imperial detention facility that allowed such behavior among its inmates.  
“Of course,” Vaheem replied. “It helps the genetics research, as well as gives us replacement subjects. As you could no doubt surmise, many of the births are in vitro fertilizations, for the purposes of testing new genetic codings.”  
“You know, the value for human lives you have here is really touching,” Resoto quipped. If Vaheem heard him, he made no acknowledgment. They approached yet another glass window. Inside, a young girl with big, sad eyes sat on a counter, tears running down her yellow-toned face in smalls rivulets. Two laboratory technicians were giving her an injection of pale green fluid, and she flinched every time the one holding the syringe pushed the plunger in a little further. “I’ve seen enough,” Resoto said, louder this time. I’ve seen enough of this insanity to last me the rest of my life. “My concern here is not with biological research.” He turned away from the yellow-skinned girl with the sad eyes. “I need military equipment. Vehicles and troops. And I need them right now. How many men are stationed here? How many have already been trained to pilot a TIE, or shoot a blaster, even repair a shuttle?” Resoto began rattling off a string of demands, trying not to think about the girl’s large eyes. They’d had a hint of gold to them . . . .  
The Vice Admiral’s eyes hardened. “I must remind you, sir, that this is not a military installations. However, we do have an armed fighting force of nearly two hundred soldiers.” He puffed out an irritated breath when he saw Resoto watching him, waiting for him to say more. “I suppose some of the able-bodied test subjects could be trained, if we must use them, as fighting units. Our scientists . . .” Vaheem was still talking but Resoto barely heard him. Only two hundred men?  
He held up a hand to cut Vaheem off. “Your zookeepers. I want them to complete any projects in process, but shut down ongoing experiments. I need them all working for me. They design weapons. They engineer fighters. They learn useful medicine, not create a need for it. Our goal right now is to restore the Empire to its rightful position as the sole government of this galaxy. Do you understand, Admiral?”  
Vaheem stood, staring up at the slightly taller Warlord like a determined womp rat about to fight a Krayt dragon for its food, his nose and mustache wrinkling up. He stood like that for a close to a full minute, looking at Resoto, as if analyzing the orders, then finally replied with a firm, “Yes, sir.”


End file.
